Page 36 of Loving an Earl
“Yes,” Lilly called out.
Harrison entered. “I’m sorry to bother you, but this just arrived for you both.” He handed Emmeline a note from the Duchess of Greenville.
“Thank you, Harrison. Lady Langford and I will be going out.” Emmeline turned to Lilly, “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sitting inside thedark carriage, Lilly asked, “It is another sick baby?”
“No. The note said it was a woman in labor. The duchess sent her own physician to her aid. But it appears there is some difficulty, and the physician requests help in keeping her other children occupied. That is where we are to help. Do you have any knowledge of children? Because I certainly do not.”
“I do. I would on occasion help the women in our village with their offspring. Keep them entertained during my papa’s sermons.”
“Thank goodness. My stomach is in knots. I wasn’t convinced we would be able to help at all.”
Inhaling deeply, Lilly fought her nervousness at actually going into one of the dilapidated buildings in St. Giles Rookery. She had grown up privileged, living in a cozy, well-cared-for, four-room cottage provided to the vicar. She’d never wanted for food or gone to bed with a painful hunger in her belly as she imagined the people of St. Giles did. She’d even had several serviceable dresses. She had been very happy and content living in Kent with her papa. Of course, they’d had poor people in their village, and she and her papa helped them as best they could using donations to the vicarage. But none of that compared to the rookeries in London.
Since marrying Henry, her eyes had opened to the vast differences between the classes. But it wasn’t until she’d witnessed the harsh conditions of the families living in the back slums of London that she truly understood what real poverty entailed. What little Emmeline and she did along with the Ladies’ Society of Mayfair wasn’t nearly enough. When the carriage stopped in front of a precariously leaning three-story wooden tenement, Lilly’s heart dropped down to her toes.
“Oh, dear,” Lilly murmured. “The place looks ready to fall sideways into the next building.”
“Indeed,” Emmeline said nodding her head in agreement. “We may as well go inside and pray for the best.”
“Yes.” Lilly held tight to a portmanteau Emmeline had brought that contained things for the children as she exited the carriage. “Where are we meant to go?”
“The duchess’s note said to enter the building, climb to the top floor to number six, and knock.” Emmeline led the way inside and up the rickety stairs that moaned and creaked with each and every step. Whatever was coating the stair treads stuck to Lilly’s boots with each step. With her free hand, she covered her mouth from the stench of urine and other things she didn’t want to know. Her heart broke again at the conditions these families lived in.
The sound of Emmeline knocking on the wooden door that was barely hanging on its hinges snapped Lilly out of her musings. A child, a thin girl around the age of eight or nine, opened the door, her eyes wide. The whites of her eyes were stark against the dim interior lit with one near-guttered candle. The hearth had burned down to nothing. Lilly surveyed the small room. One mattress sat on the uneven wooden floor with two small children huddled beneath a threadbare blanket. The child who had opened the door joined her siblings. None of them spoke a word.
Reaching into the bag, Lilly pulled out a blanket and covered them. Reaching her hand in again, she took out several carved, wooden toys and placed them beside the children. A sudden scream, coming from behind the only door other than the one they’d come through, tore through the air and Lilly yelped, locking panicked eyes with Emmeline, who looked equally shocked.
Handing the bag to Emmeline, Lilly said, in a shaky voice, “I have been present during several births. Perhaps I should go in and see if the doctor needs help.”
Emmeline looked ready to flee or cast up her dinner, Lilly wasn’t sure which. “I’ve never... I don’t think...”
“Do not worry. I’ll go help.” Her eyes went to the door and back to Emmeline. “There is food in the bag, is there not? Give it to the children. They look starved.” Another scream pummeled the stale air, and Lilly found her feet taking small, hesitant steps across the small room and opening the door with a loud creak. “It is the Countess of Langford, Dr. Smith. I’m here to help in any way I can.”
“Good. Come in. I could use another pair of hands,” said the tired-sounding doctor.
Her eyes traveled around the tiny room. The doctor stood at the end of a bed where a frail-looking woman with dark, tangled hair and a large protruding belly lay naked and propped up by pillows. Her eyes were closed and Lilly believed she had passed out from the pain. Her knees were bent up and her legs open. Births were not for those who had a weak constitution, which fortunately, Lilly did not have. It was true that she witnessed several births, and Lilly knew right away that something was wrong by the number of blood-soaked towels lying around the physician’s feet.
“The baby was breech. I tried everything, but the babe no longer lives,” said the exhausted-looking older doctor. “The mother is dying as well. She’s lost too much blood.” He wiped his blood-soaked hands on a used cloth. “I have given her laudanum to make her comfortable. It is only a matter of time. I have already sent word to Mrs. White and she should arrive shortly to take the children until a permanent placement at a foundling school can be arranged. When I leave I will send word to the local undertaker, and he will see the mother and her babe are buried in the paupers’ burial site.”
“But . . . what . . .” Lilly had trouble speaking.
“There is nothing else I can do.” He handed her a vial. “If she regains consciousness again, give her this to ease her suffering.” He picked up his black valise, nodded his head, and left Lilly standing there with her eyes wide and her mouth open.
Emmeline hovered in the doorway, her hair mussed and her face smeared with dirt and looking as though she’d seen a ghost. “Why did he leave?”
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, regretting it immediately as the metallic taste of blood bombarded her, Lilly said, “The baby was breech and died. The physician can do no more. We need to stay until she passes and a Mrs. White comes for the children.”
“I’m sorry,” Emmeline whispered.
“For what?” Lilly questioned.
“I can’t seem to move forward into the room.”
“I understand. Just see to the children.” Emmeline stepped back and closed the door, leaving her alone with the poor mother who was dying.
